On Finding Love at Thirty

I had too much coffee tonight, so when I came home, I ate a bunch of chocolate (leftover Christmas candy) and tried to write a poem, or actual a couple at the same time. This comes the closest to finished of anything. It’s a pantoum. Every time I have ever tried to write one, it gets away from me, and I’ve never been able to get it back to the beginning/end. I’m not sure how successful this is, since it’s late, and I’m tired, but at least I did work the first couple lines back in and got to an end. So, it’s something.

On Finding Love at Thirty

Each snowflake is distinct
and toothed, cold, clear,
against the glass. We drink
red wine, glasses kissed near

and toothed, cold, clear
in your hands, my thoughts sink
like red wine in a glass kissed near
to nothing. It is impossible to think

in your hands, my thoughts sink
past the words, silence is dear
but nothing is impossible. To think
only a year ago I feared

these words, held silence so dear
I relished the cold, stood on the brink
only a year ago. I feared
the melt of ice, drops of ink

fallen and cold. I stood on the brink,
pen poised to write a future clear,
melting ice like drops of ink,
blue on white, cold as tears,

my pen poised to write. A future clear
appeared to me, the way you think,
blue, white, cold as tears
but sweeter than anything

that’s appeared to me. The way you think
amazes me, that you can love clear
through me, sweeter than anything,
braver, my sugared armor melts near

a heat that amazes me. You love clear,
the only one, a sea in which to sink.
I am no longer brave, sugared armor melted near
my skin, your skin, the difference indistinct,

we are one. A sea in which to sink,
crystals of sugar, snowflakes plus tears,
my skin, your skin, sweet, salt, indistinct,
but there is nothing left to fear

in crystal of sugar, in snowflakes or tears.
We melt together. We sit up and drink
because there is nothing left to fear.
We pour more wine, quiet now. I think

we were meant together. Sit up. Drink
with me. I love you, this thing I feared.
Pour more wine. Quiet now. I think
I love you. You are sugar-like tears

to me. I love you. This thing I feared
against the glass. We drink,
we love. Like sugar, like tears,
each snowflake is distinct.